by Nina Lane
“Seriously?” I don’t believe him.
I’ve always felt so ill at ease. Keeping secrets makes you kind of a loner. Hiding the truth makes you always wary, always apprehensive. You always have to be ready to lie. You always have to watch your words. I could never laugh with my friends and feel totally happy and natural. Not when I knew vampires and demons were real and my father hunted them.
It was why I had been a virgin until I came to New York. Keeping that big secret made me scared me away from being intimate with someone. Sure, I could have just had no-strings sex. But when I wanted a guy sexually, I inevitably fell for him. I wanted more. I wanted us to be together. Do things together like getting coffee on an early lazy Sunday morning in Manhattan. Visiting Italy and drinking wine on a vine-strewn terrace. Buying a house together someday. But you can’t have love and keep a big secret.
I have no secrets from Batiste. He knows all the things I was taught to hide at any cost.
“Wait—I’ve been staring at you, thinking all kinds of stuff, and you didn’t tell me if you were serious. About my kiss.” I blush. “I’m not great at kissing.”
“You’re fantastic at kissing. Your kisses are special. Now I understand why.”
I wait, but he doesn’t explain anything more, so I kiss him again. Longer. Harder. I kiss him deep, using my tongue to tease his. My idea is to entice, but I’m getting hot enough to go up in flame. I start throbbing deep inside—I want to be filled by him. The ache, the need to have him inside me is getting so strong I want to scream.
I kiss him harder, taking out the fierce need to thrust on him in my kiss. His eyes are half closed. His lashes make a thick, ink-black fringe over his eyes. Shadows cling to his features, making his cheekbones look higher and sharper, making his eyes look deep and huge.
“God, Lauren,” he murmurs, breaking free of the kiss. The way he says my name, with the trace of an exotic accent from Medieval France, makes shivers go through me.
Then, before my heart has beaten with two frantic pulses, he’s kissing me again. Demanding, hungry kisses. He kisses me slowly for a while. Until I’m aching for him so badly that my hands are clutching his shoulders hard enough to bruise. Well, he’d bruise if he were mortal, I’m sure.
He pulls me closer, kissing me with his tongue so deep in my mouth that my pussy clenches hard. I know I’m getting soaking wet for him. I know I can’t walk away from him tonight without—
I’m falling into him.
Utterly. Completely. I can’t stop myself.
His hands splay on my back, large and strong and he lifts me up in the air. My hands slide down his smooth back. The marks of all the abuse he took are gone. And there is no hint from his satiny skin and the beautiful planes of his back that he can summon enormous bat wings.
Batiste carries me toward a half-open door.
He takes me into his bedroom.
White sheets are pulled back, neatly folded. A gold quilt rests on the most enormous bed I’ve ever seen. It could fit about six people. Black drapes cover the windows. The furniture is sparse, surprisingly so. One sleek wardrobe. One chair in the corner. Another pulled up in front of a fireplace of polished pure white marble.
Batiste lowers us so he’s sitting on the bed, and he sets me on my feet so I’m standing between his legs. He lies back, stretching out his long body on his beautiful bed.
I hike up my skirt and climb on him, straddling him just below his hips.
There’s a hard, huge bulge beneath me. My crotch is resting right on the long ridge of his erect cock, trapped in his leather pants. Teasingly, I grind on him
And gasp. I wanted to make him hot and bothered. But the sensations almost make me melt.
I rub on him rhythmically. It’s good but it’s not enough.
I lean to him to kiss him again, but he cups my cheek and stops me.
“You’re mine. Lauren, you belong to me. You’re the reason I was given immortality. I get it now. I had to live for almost a thousand years to find you.”
Okay, I am so ready.
I pull my tank top up, yank it over my head and let it fall. Maybe that was too fast to be seductive, but I don’t think I care anymore. I want my hot skin against his cool, powerful body. So I bite the bullet and unhook my bra. Then toss it aside.
His hands, big and strong, cup my breasts. He lifts them together, making the nipples point right at him. He arches up, his abdomen tightening. He sucks my nipples hard. I wail with pleasure, feeling them go hard and lengthen for him. As he draws back, I see his fangs grow, getting longer, curving down. I realize he’s getting longer somewhere else, and I’ve got it trapped under my crotch.
I do feel fear. I can’t deny it. His fangs erupting now must mean he’s lusting for blood.
But his mouth plays with my nipples and it feels so good that I don’t want to run.
With the points of his fangs, he traces a circle around my nipple. My heart is in my throat, but he’s gentle. Tender. He gives me the wildest sensations. I drop my head back, savoring. Moaning.
A tiny prick and I realize it’s from his fang. There’s fear, but also pleasure.
I know my eyes are wide as I look back down. His fangs scrape lightly but he doesn’t draw blood.
“Vampires know all about the edge of pleasure and pain,” he says. “With prey, we cross it. With someone we love…I’ll give you only what you crave, Lauren.”
“I crave you. All of you.”
He lifts me with one hand, tears open the fly of his leather pants with the other. His chin rests between my naked breasts as he does this, and he never takes his gaze from my eyes.
Then his pants are down, below his hips. I have no idea how he managed to hold me up and do that. Another display of his incredible strength.
I look down…and see his cock for the first time. It’s thick, surprisingly so. So thick at the base, I’m sure I can’t get my fingers around it. It looks so hard, like it’s made of steel. Hard to believe that’s just flesh engorged with blood. It’s utterly rigid. The shape of the head makes me want to give it a long kiss. I want to lick him, taste him, make him feel good.
I want to suck his cock. I’d love to make Batiste come that way.
I scramble back along his legs when he’s lowered me. His cock stands straight up, pointing right up at the sky.
Licking my lips to make them wet, I touch them to the tip of his cock. Unlike the rest of his skin, it’s warm. The head is firm and taut and I squeeze it with my lips.
He drops his head back and growls. An animal-like growl. His hand strokes my hair. And when I squeeze again, his hand stills and tightens.
“God,” says my vampire.
I must be doing something sort of right. His growls make me daring and I take the whole full head in my mouth, soaking him with my saliva. I push him back and forth with my tongue. I suck just the head. Stroke it with the flat of my tongue. Then use my tongue to swirl around him.
His hips move, trying to push his cock deeper in my mouth. I let him, but he goes too deep. I use my teeth to control him, scraping them lightly against him, and tightening my jaw a little to stop him.
Carefully, I take him in as far as I can. About halfway down. After that, he’s just too thick. It stretches my mouth too much to fit him in. Keeping my lips around him tightly, I bob on him. I suck as hard as I can. I let him all the way out and plant kisses all along the shaft. Then I lick him, running my tongue up and down his beautiful cock. Every trick I can think of, I try. Licking his balls, teasing them with my tongue. His balls are large, heavy. And his cock is leaking a stream of silvery, sticky juice.
With my index finger, I stroke the smooth, firm bridge behind his balls. Follow it to the firm cheeks of his ass. I squeeze his gorgeous ass and suck his cock.
Suddenly, Batiste eases me away. “You’re going to make me come. It’s been a—a long time for me. Centuries.”
I’m astounded. “Why?”
“A long story. It means I’m trigger happ
y now.”
He rolls me over, and gets on top, long, lean, silvery and naked. I sink slightly in the bed, gazing up at him.
“I want you, Lauren. So much.”
Reaching up, I stroke him over his chest, then down and I bump his cock again with my hand. It swells even larger and he leans against me. “You have to stop touching it. It’ll grow too large for you.”
“Too large?” I swallow hard, then grin. “You’re pretty cocky.”
“It’s the truth,” he says seriously. “Vampires get enhanced strength, hearing, and night vision. Some, like me, also get their cocks enhanced when they get an erection.”
I have to giggle at that. Fairly nervously. I move my hands back up to his broad shoulders.
“I’ll be gentle,” he promises. “I want you so much. Are you sure you want me?”
“Are you going to bite me? Scratch me up? Do you lose control? I read a book where a vampire tears a woman apart when he has sex with her—” I stop. “Wait—if your cock gets so much bigger, could you actually hurt me? When you’re…thrusting?”
“If I could, then I would never attempt it. I promise you I can control myself.”
Control himself. “What are you like if you’re out of control?”
“That I can never let you see.”
I’m so curious. But I know I should not want to go there. I nuzzle his neck.
“God, I love that, Lauren. Bite me.”
“Like a vampire bite?”
“I know you can’t drink my blood. But I need to be bitten when I have sex. You can bite me anywhere. Draw blood. Don’t worry—you won’t hurt me.”
While he’s talking, he wraps his hand around his cock. Pushes it down to stroke my pussy. The teasing of the thick head makes me moan. I’m getting so wet I know my pussy is going to feel like silk around his cock. I know from playing with myself, from sliding my fingers in when I was so horny.
“I’m going to thrust in a little. Just an inch to start.” He murmurs it beside my ear. His breath isn’t warm, but it tickles. I wrap my arms around his neck. Wishing I could warm him. I nibble his neck. Lightly. I just can’t bring myself to bite him—
Then he pushes his thick cock in me a little and I gasp and my teeth sink into his neck.
“Yeah,” he growls.
I stop biting him. I have to suck in a bunch of fast breaths. Oh my god. I had no idea I’d feel so stretched by him. That he would feel so huge in me.
I whimper.
“Lauren. I’m hurting you.” He backs out by lifting his hips back.
He kisses my mouth passionately. Kisses my neck, without touching his fangs to my skin. Kisses my breasts. He kisses me until I’m breathless and squirming—
And then he pushes in more. Another tiny bit. This time it doesn’t hurt so much. It feels…intense but good. So good. I sob into his neck and when he pauses, I whisper, “Don’t stop. That was perfect.”
Slowly, he fills me. One little thrust at a time. I’m so wet he’s starting to slide more easily inside. Though every inch makes me gasp.
Wow. Wow. Wow.
His hips move over me like he’s suspended in the air. He moves side to side and he thrusts deep in me, teasing me with his cock. Then he presses hard so the hilt rubs my clit.
My fingers drive into his biceps.
“Bite me, please,” he says.
“Okay. But you can thrust harder now. Just so you know.”
He flashes a grin. Then I close my eyes and I gently bite his neck. He thrusts hard. Hard enough that the bed starts to move. It bangs the wall. Thud. Thud. Can people below us hear?
I don’t care. Each incredible thrust is taking me to heaven. I move with him, trying to find his rhythm. Then I just cling to him, holding onto him while he thrusts deep and hard.
My fingernails scratch him. I’m biting him. I start slapping his shoulders as the pleasure builds. I’m winding up, getting so close—
Oh God.
The orgasm explodes in my pussy, my brain, my heart. I writhe in pure pleasure beneath him. My fingernails tear at his shoulder. I squeal close to his ear.
He laughs—I barely hear the husky sound over my cries. Then his hips jolt forward, his cock goes in as far as it can possibly go, and he jerks with his orgasm. His moan is soft, but it seems to go right to my soul. I’m crying as his orgasm ebbs away. Crying with pleasure. With happiness. With an intense poignant feeling that has to be love.
“Shh.” He kisses my tear-streaked cheeks. Then my lips.
He moves off me, falling onto his bed. His strong arm wraps around me and he cradles me to his naked body. He’s cool and he didn’t sweat, though I’m damp all over. I wrap my fingers around his huge biceps. Then I realize—I’m wet all over.
“Oh. Oh no.”
“What? Did I hurt you?”
“No, you came in me. And I’m not on the pill or anything—”
“I’m a vampire. I can’t get you pregnant.”
“Oh. I thought vampires could.”
“In a story, maybe. Not in real life,” he says.
“That’s a relief,” I say.
“Sure it is,” he answers. Then he shifts out from under me. He moves with such speed I find I’m lying on his bed and he’s standing beside the bed. I feel sleepy and I’m still floating in pleasure.
“You should sleep,” he says. “Later, we’ll leave here. Security is damn good here, but I doubt it will keep your father out. But I think you can safely sleep for a few hours. Then you have to wake and dress and I will take you—”
“Home. I can’t go home.” I sit up. “What am I going to do now? I was supposed to go work tomorrow and pitch a phenomenal wolf-shifter book to the senior agents. I guess that’s not going to happen, is it? If I tried, my father would catch me.” By accepting the life my father mapped out for me, I’ve given him the ability to take me whenever he wants—he knows where I am.
“I can’t go back to my apartment,” I say. “I can’t go home. I can’t go to work. I’m lost. Completely alone and lost.”
“You aren’t alone. I will protect you. And you are not to return home. You are to stay with me now.” His eyes glitter at me. “I had no intention of letting you go. You are mine now. Eternally mine.”
A sensation of cold washes over me. “What do you mean? I don’t want to become a vampire—”
“You have no choice.”
“What?” I scramble out of the bed on the other side to him. I haul up my clothes, holding them against me. Then I run for the door. But he gets there long before me, and I don’t even see him move. He’s not going to let me get out.
He just made love to me. Knowing he was lying to me.
He’s betrayed me.
He’s going to make me a vampire.
THE END OF BOOK 1
If you loved this story by Sharon Page, sign up for her newsletter at http://eepurl.com/gN-5D to hear about Sharon’s latest releases. Or keep in touch using the following links:
Website: www.SharonPage.com.
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/gN-5D
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/sharonpageauthor
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/197121.Sharon_Page
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ReadSharonPage
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/SharonPageBooks/
About Sharon Page
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Sharon Page graduated with a degree in Industrial Design (School of Engineering) and worked for years, by day, in the structural engineering field. By night, her secret identity was “Romance Author”.
After selling her first book in 2004, Sharon has indie and traditionally published over 20 novels and novellas. Her books have won many awards including two RT Bookreviews Reviewers Choice Awards, two National Readers Choice Awards, the Colorado Award of Romance, and the Golden Quill. Sharon was nominated by RT Bookreviews in 2013 for Career Achievement in Erotic Romance. Sharon is married, with two children, and now writes almost
full time.
More Books by Sharon Page:
The “Blood” Award-Winning Erotic Vampire Series:
Blood Red
Blood Rose
Blood Deep
Blood Wicked
Blood Secret
Blood Fire
Blood Curse
Sizzling and Erotic New Adult Romance
Yardley College Series:
One Hot Fall Term
One Hot Winter Break
Yardley College Alumni:
Fight for Me (MMA Fighters Book #1)
Fight for You – Part 1 (MMA Fighters Book # 2)
Erotic and Sensual Historical Romance:
A Gentleman Seduced
Escape with a Rogue
Sinful
Sin
Black Silk
Hot Silk
The Club
Engaged in Sin
Deeply in You
An American Duchess
The Heaven that is Home
The Worthington Wife—coming soon
Project Virgin
by
Megan Crane
www.megancrane.com
PROJECT VIRGIN
Copyright © 2015 Megan Crane
All rights reserved.
Published by Ink Heart Authors
1.
“What happened to that rock of yours?”
It took me longer than it should have to realize that Damon Patrick—lofty seventh year associate at the historic law firm of Granger & Knox, renowned litigator, and San Francisco’s favorite sex symbol—was speaking directly to me, his sexy growl of a voice loud in the confines of the otherwise empty elevator.
Directly to me, a very lowly first year associate barely a year out of law school, who’d been sent along on this deposition—I was well aware—to do little more than sort the great man’s documents and keep his coffee mug filled the way he liked it.
Black enough to kill with one sugar to sweeten the blow, in case you wondered.
I was thrilled to be assigned to him even though I knew celebrated lawyers on a meteoric rise toward an inevitable partnership like Damon didn’t usually speak to green little first-years like me, unless it was to issue orders. And Damon himself had never, in the months I’d worked in the same firm as him and only occasionally on his cases, addressed a single personal remark to me. Not one.
